Amnesia
by jones2000
Summary: AU. Fifth story in the 'Cursed' series. After a botched hunt, one of the Winchesters wakes up in a strange bed in a strange room, no idea who he is or what he does. As the FBI closes in, he has to remember again before he gets himself killed?
1. John

It was dark. And raining. And his clothes stuck to him as he pounded through the mud.

"Here, fugly, fugly, fugly." He shone his torch around himself in a wide arc. Water dripped off the barrel of his shotgun.

The air whistled and he jumped aside just as a claw came out of the darkness and slit the bark from a tree he had been standing near. He fired off into the night and the creature gave a bark of annoyance as the shot found purchase.

And then it turned and charged out of the trees. Straight for him.

He swore, backing away.

It was as ugly as sin, with huge, slobbery jaws and spring-loaded legs. It took a swing at him and once again he ducked out of its reach.

"Where the hell are you, Sam?" He bellowed. As he backed away, he was aware of the gaping chasm behind him, the ground giving way to emptiness.

_Fine. I'll do it myself. _

"Come and get me then, bitch!" He cried. "Come and get some lean meat!"

It took another swing at him, which he successfully blocked. He thought he was holding his own okay until the creature drove its free fist into his stomach and he doubled up, gasping.

_Two hands. They always have two hands unless you cut one off. Remember that. _

"Get down!"

In his soggy, pained and slightly fuzzy state he didn't think twice about obeying the voice, and dropped to his knees. A silver-tipped crossbow bolt sailed over his head and into the monster's chest.

It screamed and stepped back further toward the cliff edge.

Dean felt a small thrill of triumph as it started pinwheeling on the edge. He climbed to his feet and lined up a shot that would carry it into the canyon where it would make a satisfying splat as it hit the bottom.

"Stay down, you idiot!" The girl screamed.

It was then that the creature dug a claw into the rock shelf and pulled itself up. Swinging up, it raked the gun from Dean's hands. He stumbled back, losing his footing.

A streak of auburn leapt past him and he caught a glimpse of a pale female face underneath a dark hoodie.

And then something hard and pointed impacted with the side of his head and he was gone.

* * *

There was a girl sitting on the edge of the bed with a book when he finally blinked awake.

He coughed.

"Ah. Sleeping Beauty has risen." She peered at him from under a short fringe. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've just been run over by a truck." He whispered. "Who are you?"

"I think I should be asking you that." Dangling between her fingers was a small amulet on a cord. "It's yours." She dropped it into his hand and his fingers curled around it. "So are those. I didn't know at first you were a hunter. Thought you looked too pretty for it."

He craned his head to look at the table. On top of the scarred surface was a shotgun, a handgun, and three small knives. He sat up. "Where are my clothes?"

"In the wash." She said. "By the smell, you've been in those same jeans for weeks."

He smiled.

"Who are you?" She asked again. He thought that she deserved an honest answer. After all, he was naked in her bed, his ears still ringing, assorted weapons in his clothes, and no idea why. And she didn't mind.

So he tried to be honest.

"I… don't know."

She looked into his face and encountered only complete sincerity. "Oh. Kay." Her voice was kept carefully devoid of any emotion. He looked awkward as he bunched his fists into the blankets. "Amnesia."

"Say what?"

"Nothing." She marked her book and set it aside. "What do you remember last?"

He thought about it. "I think I was running." He said. "Chasing something or being chased. Something. And that's about it."

"And you don't remember anything before that? Friends? Family?"

"No."

She nodded. "Alright."

He looked up at her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm going out." She said. "When I'm back I'll take you to a hospital. They can help you more there. Laundry's through there. I've thrown your stuff into the dryer."

"Thank you." He said quietly. "What's your name?"

"Rosalini. Gabby Rosalini."

* * *

He heard the roar of an engine and then everything was quiet once more. Getting up, he stretched. His head still ached, but it wasn't as ear-splitting as before. Bundling his clothes out of the dryer, he noticed a battered phone among 'his' things. As he watched it, it began to ring.

_Sam calling. _

He pressed 'receive'. "Dean, where the hell are you?" An angry voice exploded over the line. "I've been trying to get you for days. Say something!" He hung up almost as quickly.

"Sorry, wrong number, pal."

After he dressed, he slipped the phone into his pocket and stared at the knives and guns. There had to be a good reason he'd been carrying them. Wasn't there? He tried to think but his mind hit a blank.

He opened the door and stepped out onto a small balcony. He didn't really intend to do what that Gabby told him, considering that as soon as she was back she was just going to pawn him off onto some government official, but at that very moment there didn't seen anything better to do.

"Amnesia. I don't remember having amnesia. Duh. Of course I don't remember having amnesia." _But maybe it could be fun. _

The night was calm and still.

_He closed his eyes and suddenly he could feel the flames, smell the decay and taste his own blood in his mouth. A dark-haired man was bending over him, his eyes wide and fearful. "I'm gonna get you back, I promise. I promise!"_

His eyes snapped open. "That was fun." He commented aloud. "I wonder what that was supposed to be? And I wonder why I'm talking to myself? Hell, I must have bumped something going down."

Something roared out in anger, causing him to jump back in surprise. And that was when he realised that it came from the direction that the girl Gabby had gone.

* * *

It was close now. She could smell it. Smell the decay and the blood.

"I got you now." She hissed. Five years and she was always off when she performed the charm. Now this time she had it in her sights.

Then growling grew louder and louder and Gabby gripped the axe she was holding firmly. She'd bought it at the hardware store down the street, and she'd walked down the road with it balanced on her shoulder. The local sheriff didn't even look at her twice.

She ran down the path, splashing in the puddles. Closer, closer…

Here.

There was a breeze that lifted her hair as the demon sliced through the air toward her. Gabby spun, swinging the axe.

It sliced into something, and a piece dropped off to the ground. She didn't stop to see what it was and turned and ran into the park. She could hear it pounding the ground behind her and suddenly the noises peeled off.

Gabby stopped. Something was wrong. "Come out." She said. "I know you're there."

"Ah, Gabrielle. Must you take the fun out of everything?"

She scowled as a woman stepped out from behind the swings. She tossed back her long, dark hair as three men joined her from the darkness. As Gabby watched, their faces seemingly began to melt.

And she said the only word she could think of that summed the situation up perfectly. "Fuck."

"Gabrielle, Gabrielle, Gabrielle." The vampire woman smiled, showing a row of razor-sharp fangs. "When are you going to realise that you lot aren't going to win this?"

She twirled the axe, springing on the balls of her feet. "Bring it on." She said.

"Take her down." The woman ordered coldly.

Gabby spun, catching one in the neck and sending him careening into another. The third pounded from behind, and she brought her elbow crashing up into his jaw, breaking the tips off several teeth.

_Clip of silver bullets. Salt. Lighter. Stake. Never leave home without 'em. REMEMBER the stake. Vampires are NOT extinct. Let's say that all together, class. _

She swung the axe again, but did not have the strength in her arms to completely sever the head. The blade stuck in the neck bone, the creature still pawing pathetically at the handle. Gabby threw all her weight onto it and the bone snapped.

_One._

She threw the axe in a downwards-slicing arch.

But one of the others grabbed the head. The jolt ran across her arm at the sudden stop. It has sliced through several fingers but he didn't notice.

He grinned at her, bearing wickedly shaped canines. "Been a long time since I tasted a hunter. Nice lean meat and no fat and ice running through their blood."

"Well." Gabby said. "Sorry to disappoint."

The vampire was still holding the axe in a firm grip above her head, so she swung up on the handle and kicked him in the stomach.

"Bitch!" He yelped, stumbling backwards.

"Get her. She's only a human." The female demanded.

"Yeah. I'm only a stupid human. What's your excuse?" Gabby jeered. It was then that someone grabbed her neck from behind, jerking her back.

"Are you scared yet?" The third vampire whispered in her ear. The female battered the axe from her hands as Gabby twisted feebly in his grasp.

"Got you now, honey." She inched closer to her, mouth hanging open. "Dinner time."

As she was three steps away from the hunter, the air whistled and the vampire woman jerked to a halt. As Gabby and the two other vampires stared, she dropped to her knees and fell face forward.

There was a crossbow bolt sticking up from her back. A clean shot to the heart.

_Two._

"Looks like we got two for the price of one." The one holding her neck growled. "Go check it out."

The second ran into the trees and all was silent for an interminable minute.

"You know." Gabby started conversationally. "You probably shouldn't have done that."

"Bite your tongue or I'll bite your neck." He said testily.

She narrowed her eyes and took a step backwards, mashing his toes under the heel of her boot. His grip slackened on her neck and she threw off his arm.

"You've got a lot to learn-"

"Female wretch!"

"-about defenceless-"

She clapped him sharply on either side of the neck, causing him to curse and step away from her.

"-girls!" She lowered her centre of gravity before twirling and delivering a sturdy roundhouse kick to the stomach. As he collapsed to the ground, she seized either side of his head and brought her knee smashing up into his face. "That's from me."

"You think this is over, girl?" The vampire spat out blood and bits of his own teeth. "You have no idea what you're up against."

"No." Gabby said coldly. "I know exactly what I'm up against."

She brought the axe crashing down.

_Three. _

"Kid!" She shouted. "Kid, can you hear me?" She hacked away plants with her axe. "Kid!" She could hear laboured breathing in front of her and she peered through the bushes.

"Kid?"

He was sitting sprawled on the grass, a hand to his bloody forehead. "Are you alright?" She took hold of his chin and angled his head up to the light.

"It's just a scratch." He sounded dazed.

"You could have concussion. Come on, then." She took hold of his hands and helped him to his feet. "Where is it?"

"Over there." He indicated vaguely with his hand. She swept aside a creeper to behold the beheaded body of the last vampire.

_Four._

"That was a vampire." He sounded as if he really didn't believe it himself.

"Yep. You really are out of it, aren't you?" She bent to retrieve her crossbow and the knife. "I'd like to know who you are, kid."

He bowed his head, still looking mournful. She silently sized him up.

"Looks like we'll be spending more time together until you figure out what to do with yourself. What do I call you?" She watched as his forehead crinkled in thought.

"John." He said finally. "Call me John."


	2. Hunter's Blog

That night, completely unaware of her friends' predicament, Jo was sitting with her computer in her lap. She'd picked it up for a song down the road and piggybacked her internet connection off the telephone line belonging to the hairdressers across the street. It was a little trick Ash had taught her when she turned nineteen.

She accessed the website. To anyone else it just looked like a bland white screen with _This page you have requested does not exist _written across it, but Jo and other hunters of the technological age knew that wasn't so. She entered her logon name and password.

The page refreshed itself and flashed up again. Now there was a small title across the screen.

_Hunter's Blog. _

She still had no idea who had began the site, but as soon as it began operating, news of it spread like wildfire. It was a secure site, supported by a provider she hadn't heard of before, and updated constantly. Other hunters from across the world could post information and ask questions and advice, everything from how to kill an Oni to where to buy a good pair of walking shoes and where to get obscure car parts.

Also, since there was a built-in translator program you could turn on and off, you didn't have to worry about translating something yourself.

Jo had found the site before she rebelled against her mother's no hunting rule and had been hooked with the tales of adventure and daring. Her previous entries where short and embarrassingly whiny. Now they had all been superseded by titles such as _'The Winchesters', 'My first lone hunt',_ recent entries such as_ 'Magical beasts and how to kill them', _and her personal favourite, _'Sam is not a psycho'._

She updated her last entries. _'Not all ghosts are like Casper',_ about the unfortunate Regan McNeill and the homicidal Vegas phantoms, and _'Watch out, there are feds about', _map inclusive of all the places they'd been loiteringIt was pretty obvious what that one was about. Lately there were more federal agents snooping around than usual, causing business in the Bar to wind down considerably and her mother to become more highly-strung than she already was.

Sam hadn't buzzed her to let her know they were okay for three weeks now, and Jo was beginning to wonder if all was smooth sailing for them.

_Jo has an Instant Message waiting from D&D. Accept? _

She clicked yes.

_D&D: Heya, girl. _

_Jo: Hi, Deac. How's it goin in them thar hills? Run into many rednecks yet? _

_D&D: Hey, I haven't gone all the way south. But G did show me how to play the banjo. _

_Jo: God, he's gone native. _

_D&D: Shut up. Heard from W2 lately? _

W2. Winchesters Squared. There were general abbreviations everyone used on the site in case some wack-job hacker managed to gain access, but individual groups also had their own terms. You could name names, but you had to be very careful about it just in case you had to step up and accept responsibility for getting someone arrested or killed.

_D&D: U still there? _

_Jo: No1 called for a while. Wondering if they've been caught. _

_D&D: Feds are buzzing your place? _

_Jo: Like bugs. _

_D&D: Maybe 2 dangerous. _

_Jo: Im worried. _

_D&D: They're big & ugly enough 2 take care of themselves. _

_Jo: Yeah. _

_D&D: JBH, pull yourself together. They'll call. _

_Jo: Why don't u call anymore? _

_D&D: No mobile reception. Using G's computer. Connected to the mayor's landline. _

_Jo: U bad boy. _

_D&D: I need 2b punished. Spanking would b good. _

_Jo: U wish! _

For another half hour she spoke to Deacon, about the job he and Gabriel were on, the new hunters they'd met, and any nonsense that popped into their heads at the time. It was almost like he was sitting with her and she realised how much she actually missed having her friends within easy reach. Her father Bill had once said that friends would only inhibit a hunter, but hers had never let her down.

_Yet. _

She shook her head to dispel the thought, and watched as Deacon left. _Desperate&Dateless signing off. _

She was about to sign off too when she noticed someone left a notice on her bio. _Warning. _She curiously clicked on the link.

_Created 21 Dec 2014. Warning. _

_A new female hunter has been seen around the NY area. _Jo gave a satisfied smile. There were so few women hunters compared to the men that whenever there was a notice that there was a new one about, her feminist side purred happily. **_Warning_**_. She is dangerous and should not be approached under any circumstances. Her last known place of residence was outside NY. She comes from an old hunting family and is known to be unbalanced. _

Another thing Jo had encountered on the site were the existence of 'old hunting families', where members of the same family had been hunters for _generations. _She was yet to meet one, if they really did exist. 

_She has informed associates that she is hunting a demigod (though resources say it is merely a shapeshifter) and is willing to take others down in her quest to catch it. This woman should not be provoked, but left alone until she once again leaves your area. _

_Stay alive. _

Following was a picture taken on a busy street, of a slight woman standing on the curb, her hands in the pockets of her trench coat. She had short, auburn hair and a freckled nose. Jo wouldn't have looked twice at the woman if she'd met her down the street.

_She's dangerous?_ "Jesus, I'm badder than her." She signed out, keeping the warning in mind. She'd only ever seen three warnings on the page. One about the Yellow-eyed Demon's psychics and how to recognise one, one about the disappearing hunters and which places to steer clear of, and one about which hunters it was better to avoid. And this girl had made it onto the list.

Her phone rang. Jo glanced down at it.

_Sam calling._

She picked it up. "Hey."

_"Have you seen Dean? He's gone!"_

"He hasn't come this way." Jo felt a sudden lump in her throat. _Federal agents. Bounty hunters. Lilith. God, something's happened to him._

_"Shit, damn, fuck." _Sam cursed. _"I lost him. Again."_

"Slow down. Tell me what happened."

_"We were on the trail of a Heeler in the countryside outside New York." _Sam said hurriedly, as though he had half a million things racing through his mind at once. _"We got separated. I heard him shout but when I got to the spot where he'd been, he was gone and so was the Heeler. There was blood on the ground."_ There was a note very much like panic in his voice. _Now you know what Dean felt like all the times you went missing._

"Sam, we'll find him." Jo said reassuringly.

_"How early can you be ready to go?"_

"Me? But-"

_"Jo, please. I can't trust anyone else."_

She paused. Took a breath to steady herself. "Okay. I'll put the word out and check our resources. Careful, there are a lot of feds lurking around lately. I'll start packing tonight." She hung up.

Ellen had been watching her strangely throughout the hurried conversation. Now she spoke.

"Don't go again, sweetheart." She sounded tired and sad. Jo couldn't hope to begin to understand what was going through her mind. _Just like Bill. _One phone-call in the middle of the night and she was off to somewhere else.

"Dean's gone missing. Sam needs my help."

"Can't he handle this himself? Why does he have to come running to you?"

"Dean is missing." Jo repeated. "He knows my name. He knows your name, where we are and what we do. If the feds get him, get their hands on what he knows, we're all dead. But what if something else finds him first? What then?"

Her mother had no reply to that.

"I'm sorry, but this is something I have to do. I promise I'll be back soon." She packed her computer before going up the stairs to her room. Ellen stared after her daughter's retreating back.

"Just like Bill." She said to herself. _A Winchester rings and it's off again._

* * *

John lay awake as Gabby snored slightly beside him. He would have happily slept on the floor but his host had insisted that there was enough room on the queen-size mattress for the both of them.

After he'd killed that vampire (a _vampire_, would you believe?) she seemed to have discovered a new respect for him, which did nothing to make him feel any less awkward.

Finally he rose to pace out his restlessness. There was something tickling in his brain. It was like there was something important he had to do, but for the life of him he could not remember what (surprise, surprise).

He opened the door and went back out onto the small balcony, his hands curling around the rusted railing.

"I'm not a killer." John said aloud. _God, even I don't believe that. I cut that dude's head off! _He stared down at his bare hands and arms, scratched and pitted with scars. "I want to know who I am. Don't I?"

There was a noise behind him. A noise so small that anyone else would have ignored, but John knew without a doubt that he wasn't anyone else. He spun to peer back into the room.

There was a man standing right there, behind him. As his mouth opened to yell for Gabby, the man gave a sinister smile, his eyes sparkling yellow.

John swallowed wordlessly. Fear built inside him and rooted him to the spot.

Still smiling, the yellow-eyed man reached into his jacket and withdrew an ancient-looking pistol, and aimed it directly at him.

"Time to die." He said, and pulled the trigger.

John jolted awake, his heart racing. He stared around himself. The door was still closed and he and Gabby were still the only ones in the room.

"John?" A sleepy question from the other side of the bed.

"A dream." He murmured. "Just a dream…"

* * *

Someone poked him in the side. "Wake up."

"Go 'way." He wrapped the pillow around his head.

There were footsteps leaving the bed. A few moments later, they were back.

Something freezing cold ran down his spine and he woke with a start. One leg snared in the blankets and he fell out of bed, hitting the floor hard.

"Good morning." Gabby was standing over him, fully dressed. She wiped her damp hands on her jeans. "I hope you aren't naturally this uncoordinated or the two of us are in for some trouble."

"You poured a jug of water on me!" John said, outraged.

"It could have been a lot worse." Came the even reply. "Get your ass into gear. We're going shopping." And the way she said it left no room for refusal.

"Oh, but-"

"You need clothes and I need supplies. I'll give you twenty minutes to shower and make yourself pretty before I drop your sorry butt and you can walk to town."

Exactly twenty-five minutes later, John had finished lacing his boots and was watching Gabby stuff a pair of saddlebags with a hand on his chin. He rubbed a finger across the top of his lip. He needed a shave, bad.

"Where's your car?"

"Car? Who said anything about a car?" She tossed him her bags before walking away to another cupboard-like room that John hadn't been in yet. He heard her thump about before she came back out. John's mouth dropped open as she rolled a motorbike into the flat.

"The landlord lets you keep that in here?"

"Why do you think I'm staying in this dodgy little place instead of anywhere else more upmarket? Give the guy an extra ten and he's happy. You reckon anyone else could spot skid marks on a floor like this?" She indicated the stained and torn carpet. "Besides, there's no way in hell I'm leaving my baby in the lockup over night."

She fondly buffed the badge before taking the bags off John and slinging them over the back of the bike. "You gonna be riding with me, you better be okay with being a pillion passenger."

"Fine."

"And if you _dare _try to cop a feel, I'll break your fingers."

"Loud and clear."

As it turned out, she needn't have worried about him getting in a cheap shot. With the speeds she worked the bike up to, John's hands were too busy clutching at her waist so he wouldn't fall off. She seemed to be riding erratically to try and shake him, so John just gritted his teeth, fixed his expression, and held on for dear life.

Gabby skidded into a park directly in front of one of the mall's massive glass windows. Even from inside the building, she would be able to keep an eye on her most prized possession and best friend.

John momentarily wondered if people really developed emotional bonds to their _vehicles, _but dismissed the idea as ludicrous.

She dismounted in a flourish. He heard her spine crackle as she stretched, impossibly limber after half an hour on the hard seat. "Get a move on."

"I'll be there in a minute."

Gabby glanced back at him as John slowly straightened his legs and put a hand to his tender backside. For the first time since he had met her, she grinned.

"Saddle-sore, John?" She asked, laughter in her voice. "Don't worry, it'll wear off. Eventually."

"What a comfort." He grumbled. "Stop grinning, it's not funny!"

All that did was make her smile wider.


	3. Kat

Sam lent on the car horn and Jo ran out to the Impala, bag slung over her shoulder. She tossed her gear in the back before waving at her mother and slipping into the passenger's side. Ellen didn't smile as she watched her daughter leave once again. How long before she went out and didn't come back?

She sighed and went back into the Bar.

* * *

John picked up a couple of shirts and some jeans. Gabby also instructed him to pick out a jacket, before she tossed him a long dark blue trench coat and told him to try it on. There were several large pockets sewn into the lining, which could be useful. After all, as a hunter, he had to start thinking of these things, right?

He watched her pay for their purchases. She had gotten a small quantity of sliced meat, a loaf of bread, some cereal, some canned food and a couple of big bottles of water. Coupled with the stuff she got him, stuff she got herself and maintenance of her Harley Davidson...

Yes, this girl must have had some serious money behind her.

Gabby glanced back at him as John glanced down at his phone. As she watched, he turned it off and slipped it into his jeans.

"John?" She asked. "What's up?"

"Some guy keeps calling." He said glumly. "Sam. Looking for someone called Dean. I _don't know _a Sam or a Dean. Or at least, I don't remember. Maybe I just nicked the phone from somewhere. That feels like the kind of thing I'd do."

She finished stuffing her bag and lent against her bike. "You know what I think?"

"No. But I've got a feeling you're going to tell me."

"I think you do know who you are. Deep down." John opened his mouth to protest but Gabby continued. "After you were attacked, your subconsciousness took over and decided who you were was too traumatic for you to handle while you were healing."

"I was attacked?" His eyes widened momentarily. Then he frowned. "Are you saying I can't remember who I am because I don't _want _to remember?"

"Give the boy a prize." She nodded.

"But that's _insane_." He exploded. "And completely illogical. Why would anyone ever want to forget who they are?"

"I don't know." Gabby said quietly. "I've seen and done a few things that I'd rather not remember."

John sighed. "You look after me and make sure I've got the stuff I need. And all I do is snap at you." He stared out into the bustling street. "I just feel so useless. I'm able to do this stuff. I'm strong enough. But I can't for the life of me recall _why._ Why would anyone willingly do this crap?"

"Don't look at me like that. Me, doing this gig, it wasn't accidental or by choice."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't turn to look at her.

"My family," Gabby said. "Jesus, it's been years since I told anyone this. I'm the eldest child in my family and for God knows how long, it's been some twisted tradition to raise the oldest to hunt. All other family members have to finance the hunter and help with whatever crops up along the way. Bail, weapons, money, research. The work is evenly distributed with only the expense of training one."

John kept his back to her. "I've heard of places that train several people at once, but I've never seen one. My family are deranged, and the hunter of that generation has a life expectancy of a pimple. I've made enemies, and you're probably putting yourself in the direct line of fire by staying with me."

He scuffed the toe of his boot. "Tell me." He said. "Tell me about the hunters. Tell me about the thing you're hunting. Tell me why you're running alone."

"Those are fairly involved questions." Gabby flipped out her phone impulsively before tucking it back. "And I will try to answer them. But not here."

"Why-?"

"It's too public. They still lock people in asylums, John." She said sternly. "And you can tell anyone you want that you're not crazy. Because that's what everybody says."

And that was when her phone rang for real. Gabby jumped in surprise and extracted it again. She flipped it open. "Ros here." She listened intently, her eyes on her brooding companion. "Yeah. I'll be there. K, you put up another room? Yeah, I'm bringing another hand. Cool. Later." She hung up. John finally turned back to her.

"We're going to meet my sister." She announced. "Kat Rosalini."

* * *

The windows were wound down and the music was turned up. Jo was at the wheel and Sam was on his computer. Jo pulled up neatly into a park in front of a block of flats and turned the engine off. The music died instantly.

"Got anything?" She asked.

Sam slowly shook his head. "Dean's phone is ancient. I can't get a lock on the GPS." He sounded frustrated. Jo peered up at the building in front of them.

"This is the last place within a three mile radius. He couldn't have gone much farther on foot if he was injured." She didn't really want to think of it that way, but to find him they had to deal in cold, hard facts. "He's holed up somewhere if he's not-"

"_Don't _say it." Sam said loudly.

"Sam, you've called his phone several times and someone's hung up on you. If it's not him, it's someone else. Which means he might be in any kind of state when, _if_, we find him."

"I've got to get him, Jo."

"I know you do." They both got out of the car and locked it. "You got your ID?"

"Always."

There was a short, round man smoking a cigar sitting behind a chipped mahogany desk as they walked in. He gave them what he must have thought was a friendly smile.

The duo flashed their badges at him and the smile faded quickly. "What can I do for you, officers?"

"We're looking for a man who was recently in the area." Sam said. "Around three inches shorter than me, dark hair."

Jo withdrew a battered warrant photo that Sam had given her. "This was taken eight years ago but he still looks roughly the same."

"Lady, do you know how many dark haired fellas I get through here? Got anything more specific?"

"He would have been limping, and his wrist is splinted." Sam added. "Can you think of anyone coming through recently who matches the description?" He was doing a good job at appearing calm, though Jo knew that inside he was churning with disappointment.

"I'm sorry, officers." He said. Sam and Jo turned to leave. Another day wasted. "Wait. Small brace thing on his hand?"

"Yeah." Sam said. "You've seen him?"

"Show me that picture again." Jo handed it over. "Yeah." The guy said. "Might've been him. There was blood on the kid's face, so I couldn't see him properly when he come in."

"He checked in here alone?" Jo asked.

"God, no. The poor bastard could hardly hold himself upright. One of my regulars brought him in. Nice girl, but a bit of a tramp. I asked if they needed a doctor and she said no, she'd just take him up to her room. Gave me an extra sixty to cover expenses. I thought he must have been a friend of hers, you get me?"

"We get you." Sam said dryly. "And what was this girl's name? For the case."

"Hold up." The man lifted his massive weight off the stool and scurried to the back room. He emerged a minute later with a dog-eared book in his hands. Sam couldn't help himself.

"Wouldn't that be easier on computer?"

"Look around, kid. Do you think I can afford a computer with this dump? If it were up to me I'd have the whole place condemned and demolished. But my miserable old man left the place to my kid instead."

"Gee, that's… too bad." Jo said. "Can you get us her name?"

He flicked through the pages excruciatingly slowly. Then he got to the entries yesterday. He stabbed a blunt finger down at a name. "G Rosalini. That's all she told us. Nice girl, never would have thought she'd get mixed up in anything to do with the cops. Ah, you're too late, officers. She checked out yesterday."

Sam grimaced, his eyes getting angrier and angrier. "Sir, can you tell us what this 'G Rosalini' looked like? Her physical description?" Jo jumped in.

"Let's see." He rubbed his rounded chin. "She was a bit smaller than you, lass. Short hair. A reddish colour, I think. Almost every time I saw her, she was wearing this long, dark coat. She said she'd give me extra if I let her bring her bike into the room with her. Said she didn't like leaving it out on the streets."

"Bike?"

"Motorbike." The man elaborated. "Beautifully maintained. Part of it was red too. I asked her if she was thinking of selling and she just laughed and slipped me some extra cash."

"Did you catch the number plate on the motorbike?" Sam asked.

"Do I look like I have a friggin' university degree? She paid me good money so I didn't need to get the laws involved." He peered up at both of them. "Don't tell me I've been harbouring a fugitive? I've been watching TV and know what they do to those guys."

"Perhaps." Jo said. "We still aren't a hundred percent sure whether either of these two people are a danger."

"Well, tell me when you do. I don't want to be harbouring any more criminals!"

"Did she happen to tell you where she was going?"

"I heard her mention to your boy that they was going to see somebody. Kat, the name was. Kat or Kathy or something."

"Thank you for your help."

The two walked back out to the car. "I saw your face." Sam said as they slipped back into the vehicle. "You recognised the girl."

"Not recognised." Jo said. "Not really. I was on the _Hunter's Blog _about a week ago and there was a general posting about a girl that sounded familiar. Said she was dangerous and under no circumstances should be approached. Stuff like that." She opened Sam's computer and brought up the site. "Give me a sec and I'll get it…"

She turned the machine to face him. Sam quickly skimmed the article before looking at the photo of the girl in her long, dark coat. "You think it's the same one?"

"The good news is that the government hasn't got him. The bad news is that a hunter has instead. I can honestly say that I'm indifferent about now. What does this mean?"

Sam took the computer as Jo started up the Impala. He stared at the screen as Jo pulled out. "It means." He said. "We find Kat, we find G, and we find Dean."

"So we're hunting them."

"If this woman is as dangerous as whoever posted this thinks she is, she's hardly any different to any other creature we have to hunt."

"But she's a human." Jo pointed out blankly. "Which brings me to another interesting point. Was Dean forced or did he go willingly?"

Sam gave her a strange look, as if he was incredulous that she'd thought the idea was worthy enough to bring up.

* * *

The bike skidded to a stop in front of a grand townhouse with vile-smelling purple flowers in the front garden. John slung the saddlebags over his shoulders as Gabby wheeled the motorbike in through the gate, trampling several blooms on her way.

The front door opened and there was a small beep from somewhere. Next thing, the garage door was rolling open. Gabby rolled the Harley into the garage and John glanced up toward the house.

There was a woman standing in a smart grey business suit on the front path. She had long dark hair and dark eyes and her thin face recalled Gabby's.

"You certainly took your time." She said in a crisp, commanding tone.

"Shut up, Kat." Gabby put a hand in the small of John's back and propelled him gently forward. "This is John."

"John." Kat Rosalini looked him up and down appreciatively. John lowered his eyes. "Gab, you meet the… nicest people." She offered him her hand and he had to take it and smile politely.

"A sort of masculine aura, don't you think?" Gabby smiled at Kat but did not get close enough to hug her. They seemed to be friends, but not particularly sisterly.

"What have you got for me, Kat?"

"It'll have to wait until tomorrow." Kat said as she lead them into her house. To John it seemed freakishly neat. "I'm meeting with April McCaan later. Actually I should be there now. You're both in the end room, I'm afraid. I had the third bedroom converted to an office last summer. Catch you later."

Gabby and John watched her sister as she strode confidently away. Gabby pushed open the door and dropped her things on the floor. John did likewise. The room was pretty standard. Double bed. Desk. Then he noticed the books lining the walls.

_Demonology. Modern Witchcraft. Prayers of Exorcism. Poisons & Antidotes. Medieval Weapons._

He sat down on the bed. "Your sister." He started. "I take it she doesn't entertain much."

She laughed. "You could say that. Most of the people she hangs around tend to be murderers." At John's slightly bewildered look, she elaborated. "She has an excuse. She's a criminal lawyer and a consultant for the FBI."

"For real?" For him, the news was slightly surprising considering what her big sister did, but really didn't interest him overmuch. He lent forward and put his head in his hands.

_'I'm with the FBI. I know all about you and your brother and your dad.'_

"John?"

"Tired." He said.

"You should get more sleep."

"It's like when you're so tired you can't." He confessed. "I feel… worn out. You know?" Gabby pulled out the desk chair and sat down opposite him.

"I know." She said. "John, I'm going to try to answer your questions now."

* * *

It was rapidly approaching nightfall. Sam and Jo had taken a room at a small bar in town while they planned their next move.

Jo was sitting at the bar with her beer in one hand. She had one eye on the people coming up to take a shot at the leggy blonde and one eye on the sports on television. Sam had gone off to the toilet and she was also guarding his drink.

The sport finished, giving way to the news just as he came back. "Did I miss anything?"

"Nah. Both teams still suck." She took a slip from her glass, listening idly to the news headlines.

_"…And in further news, the case of Eddie Jenkins, criminal lawyer Katherine Rosalini has taken over as the defence." _

Jo looked up, suddenly alert. The news showed a short clip of a woman with long dark hair dressed in a snazzy suit.

_"My client is innocent. And I would have you all remember that he will remain that way unless the prosecution deploys underhand tactics to have him convicted."_

_Ms Rosalini, an FBI consultant, has taken the case that bears startling similarities to the FBI's Dean Winchester investigation that involved the mutilation and murder of the victims. The Agency has issued a statement that this is a copycat crime-"_

The bartender changed the channel. Jo glanced at Sam. He likewise seemed dumbstruck. _Kat Rosalini, criminal lawyer, FBI agent. _

_God, what if she recognises him?_


	4. Shapeshifter

"The hunters. Some operate in teams, though a lot of them run their gigs alone. All the resources I've ever looked through, there was never a time when there weren't our kind running around. That's our job. To hunt. To take these creatures down before they hurt our world."

John was silent, simply listening. It really felt like he should already know this stuff. "Sometimes they die. Sometimes we die. Sometimes we become so empty and unfeeling that it doesn't matter if we live or not. They're the worst and the most dangerous hunters you could ever come across. The ones that don't care anymore. There are groups, places where you'd least expect them that look after hunters. We're an underground community, John."

She flicked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I lot of us wouldn't think of it, but they're heroes. They – we – give up any chance of a normal life so others can live out theirs. That takes guts. You have to believe that you can make a difference. That you matter. If you don't believe you can do it, you'll be one of the shortest-lived hunters ever."

Gabby crossed her legs. "As for me, I'm running alone because no one else I've met can really keep up with me. I guess I'm kinda crazy."

"You're not crazy." John said.

"Reassuring, coming from you." She said dryly. "I've killed creatures. I've killed men who were working with demons. I've killed hunters who've been trying to kill me. I've done some damn untasteful things. I'm probably on the _Hunter's Most Wanted_ now. Grossed you out yet?"

"You'll have to try better than that." He looked out the window toward the open road. Suddenly he was almost certain he could hear strains of _Back in Black. _

"Do you know Cerberus, John?" Gabby asked seriously.

Cerberus.

_'Do you remember who you are?' _

"Not personally." He answered. "That's the three headed dog that guards Hell, right?"

"Right." She nodded. "Also interchangeable with several other mythical beings around the world. Who all happen to guard Hell. Since I don't really know who he/she/it is, for the sake of the conversation, I'll call it the Guardian. With me so far?"

John just gave her a look. "You've been hunting this Guardian?"

"Kind of. I suppose you could say its tradition."

"What?"

"My family hunts its family. My father went after its father; my grandmother went after its grandmother. It's a tangled web we weave."

He was quiet for a long moment. "Why do you trust me?" He asked finally.

Gabby bit her bottom lip. "I suppose," she said. "I feel like I owe you something."

"How do you figure that?"

"The night you stopped being the old you." She said. "You must have been following the trail of something else and I was stalking my Guardian. I'd known for a while that there were other hunters not that far from me and normally I would have poked around to find out who they were. I didn't because I was running out of time."

John was listening intently. _She kept him around because she thought his amnesia was partly her fault. _

"Somewhere there our paths must have crossed. You got in the way, and –BAM." She finished. "I was thinking to take you to hospital but I realised that probably wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

"Hunters get in trouble. Civilians getting in the way, thinking they know better than we do. Occasionally we go down for it. If you really can't remember who you were, I thought I better not…"

"Dump me in it?" John offered.

"More or less. You're a good kid, and I think I like you. But I didn't think I could really forgive myself if the government found something to charge you on. Several good men I knew were given the chair for protecting people. How do you convince a judge that you were hunting vampires, or putting down a werewolf? I don't want to see you take a bullet in the back."

John was touched by her sincerity. "You mean that?"

"Don't get complacent, kid." There was a smile in Gabby's voice. "I'd do the same thing for Kat."

"But Kat's your sister. Family is different, isn't it? You're supposed to protect your family."

_'You and me. We're all that's left.' _

"Kat is only one sliver of the family tree. You haven't seen the rest." She sounded tired. "I'm going to bed. Do you want the left side or the right?"

John blushed as she proceeded to take her top off. "I'll get changed in the bathroom." She shrugged nonchalantly.

John walked back down the hall to the small bathroom he had spotted when Kat had lead them through the house. Something was hanging on the wall near what seemed to be another bedroom caught his eye and he stepped forward to take a closer look.

It was a family photograph. He spotted the lean, auburn-haired Gabby at once, standing in the centre of the group, smiling cheekily. She would have had to be around fifteen or sixteen. The dark-haired Kat was by her side, trying to teasingly elbow her out of the frame.

_And there was a father, with neatly parted brown hair that always seemed to look untidy, standing with a hand on both his boys' shoulders. And there should have been a tall blonde woman beaming by his side, fierce and proud. _

_But she wasn't there anymore. Neither was the father. They had given themselves up for something greater._

John took a step back, blinked, and shook his head tiredly. "Never again." He muttered. "Never again eat Burritos before bed."

* * *

Kat Rosalini was up long before he and Gabby made it to the kitchen for some breakfast. She was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the morning newspaper. "Good morning." She said archly.

Her sister just grunted in reply, pulling a box of Lucky Charms from the cupboard.

_Lucky Charms. There's something about that cereal. _John sat down, running a hand over his freshly shaven chin. He felt a bit cleaner now he wasn't quite so… furry.

"Gee seems to have found the cupboard." Kat said conversationally. "You might as well go and see what you can find."

"Ah, thank you."

"And he's polite too! Much better than that last thing you went hunting with." She said to her sister. "You remember that older guy that you beat to a pulp because he tried to sell you out?"

Gabby frowned darkly. "I remember." She returned to the table with a bowl and some milk. "So, what's the sitch?"

Kat spread out the paper before her. The headline blared _'Ed the butcher to go down in murder/mutilation case'._ Gabby grimaced as she read the beginning paragraph.

"_Please _tell me this isn't your new case."

"Hey, you don't see me telling you how to do your job." Kat retorted flatly. "This man, Eddie Jenkins, is being charged with murder in the first degree of Detective Inspector Paul Barrett."

"And you think he's innocent?"

"I've interviewed witnesses that back up Ed's story that he was in Manhattan at the time of the murders. One's a casino owner who remembers having him thrown out after he was caught cheating at cards, another is s retired schoolteacher who he helped run down a bag-snatcher for her, and the third is DC April McCaan."

"The woman you saw yesterday." John remarked.

Kat nodded. "But I've also got video surveillance showing Ed beating the crap out of the cop with a knife in his hand."

"Has he got a twin?" Gabby suggested half-heartedly as she drizzled milk on her cereal.

"Only child."

"Maybe he's just bought a very good alibi."

"I went to school with Ed." Another startling revelation. "He never minded going down for something as long as he was definitely at fault."

"Damn, Kat. You're going all personal on us."

She gave her sister a poisonous look. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Maybe for once this isn't my sort of thing."

"Since when is it ever 'not your sort of thing'?" Kat rose, her chair pushed back with a screech. Looking disgusted, she walked out of the room.

"I think you pissed her off."

"Eh. What are older siblings for?"

_'I'm the oldest, which means I know best.'_

"Yeah." John said. A moment later, the kitchen door swung open again, and Kat marched back through it. There was a tape clutched in her slim hand.

"What are you doing this time?" Gabby asked with exaggerated exasperation.

"I thought you might like to see the CCTV tape." Kat said, before slipping the tape into the small television on the countertop. Gabby watched, still chewing her breakfast, completely unimpressed. Kat frowned and fast-forwarded it before letting it play normally.

"That's supposedly Ed." She pointed to a tall man with black hair. He walked across the street casually until he was right under the camera. He glanced up at the lens before walking away. Kat rewound and then paused.

"There! Does that look like any camera flare you've ever seen before?"

The pupils of his eyes were completely lit up. John suddenly went very still.

_'He's walking around with my face. I'd say it's a bit personal!'_

Gabby frowned, staring at the television. "John, I think we've got a-"

"Shapeshifter." He growled.

"Um, yeah."

* * *

Kat Rosalini lived in a nice place with putrid-smelling flowers out the front. The Impala crawled into a park across the street.

"Now what do we do?" Jo asked. "Pretend we're cops?"

"She's a criminal lawyer, Jo. She'd know all the police around here. Same with the FBI." There was a deep frown etched on his face. Jo knew he had an impulse to walk up to the door and shake the lawyer until the information he wanted fell out of her.

"We have to make sure Dean's actually here." Sam said. "So that means…"

"We wait?"

"Yeah. We wait."

"Man, that _sucks._"

One hour passed, then two. Jo started playing with her phone but Sam stayed fixated on the door. Finally it swung open and he pinched Jo's arm to get her attention. "Look."

A woman with short, auburn hair and a freckled nose walked down the front steps, bag over her shoulder. The duo watched as she turned back. "Get a move on, John!" They heard her say.

"Al_right_." A man said exasperatedly. He followed behind her, hands in his pockets, as she went to the garage and wheeled out her motorbike. Jo and Sam both gasped as he turned to the sun and both clearly saw his face.

Sam didn't think he'd seen his brother cleanly shaven since he had been trying really hard to impress that girl in his last year of high school. Gone too were the ripped jeans, and his hair was even _combed._

He couldn't help it. "What have they done to him?"

There was no mistaking Dean Winchester, his confident walk and his always-amused grin.

But there was something wrong with the way he held himself, and the way he was talking to the girl. In hindsight, she was fairly good-looking, but the way he spoke to her held no sexual overtones.

And the woman had called him 'John'.

"God, what's going on?" Sam whispered.

"Let's go find out." Jo said, starting the engine as Kat's sister Gabrielle and Dean left on the bike. The Impala roared into action as it followed them down the street.

* * *

"Okay, Kat said we didn't have any CCTV of Ed actually coming down the other end of the street." Gabby said. Since her small disagreement with her little sister, she had slipped back into 'professional' mode. "He would have had to, to reach Paul Barrett's house. But we do have a tape of him turning up on Barrett's doorstep."

"So it's hideaway must be somewhere between Barrett's place and the spot where the camera is."

"Very good." She said. "You _must _have done this before."

"I don't remember." He said automatically.

_'I think this might be the place.'_

_'Why do you say that?'_

_'Because there's another puke-inducing pile by your face.'_

"Sewers." He said. "Try the sewer system."

Gabby narrowed her eyes at the tone of certainty in his voice. "Alright. We'll try the sewers."

They were careful to be sure that no one was watching as John pried up the manhole cover. Gabby went down first, shining the torch below her. John stepped onto the rung behind her, pulling the cover closed over his head.

Sealing them in.

"I don't like this." He said.

"Your honesty is touching, but shut up." They proceeded along the length of the tunnel, water sloshing over their boots.

Something was splashing in the water in front of them and Gabby shone her torch along the stretch of tunnel. A small, damp creature was swimming away from the intruders, squeaking all the way.

"Rats."

"You don't like rats?"

"I remember _that_."

Just then, something else hit the water, hard. Too large to be another rat or other rodent. John withdrew his gun, his finger tightening on the trigger as the pair of them came to a stop. It was coming toward them, creating ripples.

Gabby swung her torch in a wide arc. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." She sung out softly.

Nothing.

"But it was here," John said. "It couldn't have just-"

"John, look out!"

He didn't even get to turn as something heavy crashed across the back of his head. All he saw was Gabby's surprised expression, and then he was gone.


	5. Database

Kat was sitting at her desk, staring at her computer. Her secretary knocked on the door. "Coffee?"

"Maybe later, thanks."

The door closed again.

Finally Kat brought up the FBI database. She signed in and opened the search engine. _'John.' _

Several hundred entries followed. She tapped her fingers on the keyboard as she thought of how to narrow the parameters.

_'He's like me.' _Gabby had said.

_'Grave desecration.' _She typed. _'Suspect in murder.' _

After an interminable minute, the results flashed up.

_100 percent match. John Winchester. _

She opened the file, but as soon as she saw the photo she knew at once it couldn't have been him. This John was fifty-odd, and slightly greying.

And dead.

Kat grimaced and was about to begin again when she noticed something in his biography.

_'Wife deceased. Sons Samuel and Dean. File reopened.' _

It wouldn't hurt to take a look at the boys' file, would it? She opened the one for Sam. The kid was thinner and taller than the man her sister was sleeping with, so with lowered expectations, she opened the file of the much-talked-about Dean Winchester.

All the blood drained from her face.

* * *

He must have slipped into temporary unconsciousness, because a moment later his eyes snapped open and the shapeshifter was at Gabby's throat, scrabbling with half-formed hands for a hold. There was blood on her face.

"No." John hissed. _Not so fast. _He launched himself forward, tackling the creature around the knees. Both of them tumbled heavily to the ground. John raised his fist to strike.

"John!" Gabby shouted.

His moment of distraction was all the creature needed. It easily flipped him over, forcing his mouth and nose below the water.

_Shit. _

Through water-filled ears, he could hear someone splashing through the puddles toward them. There was a muted shot, and suddenly the pressure on his head and neck was gone. Someone grabbed his shoulder, pulling him up.

John broke free of the grip of his rescuer, coughing and spluttering.

"Are you okay?"

_A dark haired man with a thin face and pointed chin. 'Jerk!' _

Gabby was gone, and there was a shapeshifter dead in the water. She would not have left a friend to die, so there was only one explanation.

There must have been two of them. And now the second one had her.

John forced himself to his feet and searched around for his submerged gun. Grasping it, he braced his back against the wall, the blood still pounding though his ears.

"Take it easy. It almost killed you." The man who had shot the shapeshifter reached forward to steady him.

"Don't touch me!" John spat. "You let it take her! You let the other one get away!"

Sam pulled back his hand as if he'd been burned. He blinked in surprise. "But I-"

He loaded his gun, water running from the top of his head into his clothes. But his anger at the creature that took Gabby was driving him now.

"Dean!" The other man shouted. "It's me, Sam." He stretched out a hand to grab at the back of his coat. John spun, eyes flashing. Angrily, he brought his fist crashing down across the side of the other man's face. Wordlessly he turned and continued down the tunnel.

Sam had stumbled back against the wall. He was aware of a tickle of blood running down his face from the corner of his eye, but he paid it little attention. All he could think of was Dean's accusing glare, and the pain in his brother's eyes.

"Sam!" Jo had found her way back to him, her torchlight weaving as she splashed through the water toward him. "I heard a shot."

"I found Dean and Gabrielle." Sam said expressionlessly. "I think Dean must have Stockholm syndrome or something. He's gone nuts."

"What?"

"He looked at me like… like he didn't know who I was."

Jo blinked. A dozen clichéd scenarios from every soap she'd ever seen ran through her head. "You think he's gotten emotionally attached to this woman?"

"There's only one way to find out." Sam grabbed her elbow and the two of them ran down the tunnel.

* * *

Kat came home from work early that day. When she was not been working on Ed's case, she had been gathering information on Dean Winchester.

Gabby did her run with as many criminals as Kat did, but Kat was certain that this time her big sister had bitten off more than she could chew.

She'd kept on her poker face throughout the morning, though inside she was having a major conflict of interest. Should she inform on her sister and John, earning herself a big, fat, promotion and complete disownment from her family?

Or should she give John the benefit of the doubt and trust him and Gab to get her the information she needed in order to get her client off?

It was not easy doing her job when the majority of her family were more heavily involved in illegal activities then her clients.

She parked her car and locked the garage behind her. Walking past the window, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Someone was in the house.

She silently opened the door. The phone table was by the coat rack and she reached into the small drawer, withdrawing a small pistol that fitted neatly into the palm of her hand. Her house had been broken into several times before, both by supernatural entities and ordinary burglars. By now, Kat was prepared for home intruders.

Kat kicked open the lounge room door, finger on the trigger. "Freeze!"

Gabby turned to face her sister, a slightly disbelieving look on her face. "Freeze? That's really all you can come up with?"

Kat lowered the pistol. "Jesus, Gab. You want to get yourself shot?" Then she began to see the problems with the picture. "You ditched John. And you're home before twelve pm on a Friday." She clutched the gun tighter as she began to wonder.

"I swear I forgot how suspicious you were of everyone." Gabby said lightly. "There was nothing I could find. That reflection was probably a camera flare, like the cops are saying. And you were right about that John guy. Turned out to be no good at all."

That was the tip-off point. In all the times Kat had seen her sister and that John together, the two had always seemed incredibly close. Gabby would never confide in someone only to turn around and call them dirt the next day. "Who are you?"

"Oh, Kat, you're so clever." The creature wearing Gabby's face sneered. "Teach me to be as clever as you, _pleeeasee_."

"What have you done with my sister?" And Kat was ashamed to admit that her voice was shaking. But her hands remained steady.

"Got her out of the way." It said. "So, no. Big sister is not going to come charging in and save your ass. Again. That's what you hated so much about her. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how far you reached, it was always Gabby. And you know what?"

It stepped forward. "She was jealous of you." It batted the pistol from her hands, before twisting one of her arms around her back and pulling her into the house.

The door shut behind them.

* * *

The walls were wet with condensation and the parts of him that had taken a refreshing dip were starting to feel slimy. There was only one thought going through his head as he trudged onwards.

_Please don't flush_. He didn't feel like going for another dip in the town's sewerage today. His foot slipped in something and he almost went ass over head again, but managed to right himself in time.

He shone the torch down. It was a puddle.

Of blood and skin and teeth. "Now that's just _gross._" He muttered.

_'Maybe when it changes, it… sheds'_

He stepped up into an old maintenance hole that plumbers of old built into the wall. "Gabby?" There were Hessian sacks on the stone floor. John walked further into the room. "You here?"

Part of a boot was caught in the circle of his torchlight. John knelt by the body. "Gabby?" He reached for a pulse and touched the deep cut to her forehead, slicing down her eyebrow and her cheek.

At the touch, she stirred slightly. "John?" Her voice sounded far away.

"Hey." He helped her sit up. She shook her head dazedly.

"Did you get it?"

"No." He answered grimly. "It got away."

Gabby looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine." He helped her to her feet. As he lifted her down from the maintenance hole, her eyes fixed on the heap of steaming human leftovers that John had trodden in before.

"Fan-friggin'-tastic."

"What?"

"It's changed. We've lost it."

John's eyebrows knitted in thought. "Where would it have gone?" He mused. "Would it go after someone else?"

Gabby's head snapped up. "Kat."

* * *

Drenched, still dripping and shivering, the two returned to Kat Rosalili's place. Gabby gently nudged the door open with her foot. "She never leaves the door unlocked even when she's here." She said softly.

The place was too quiet.

The door to the lounge room was flung wide and the rug on the floor was wrinkled. That was so out-of-character to someone like Kat that they simultaneously raised their weapons.

"Kat!" On the ground in the middle of the room lay the prone lawyer. There was blood at the corner of her mouth but otherwise she seemed unharmed. Gabby knelt by her and felt for a pulse. John could see her physically flop in relief as she found one.

After a moment, Kat's eyes flickered open. "Gab." She croaked. "That better be you and not that paranoid freak."

"It's me." Gabby said grimly. "Where did it go?"

"Outside." John bent to retrieve the pistol that had been dropped just inside the door. He handed it back to Kat.

"Here."

"Ed." Kat breathed. "The damn thing looks like Ed."

"Don't worry. We'll blast the sucker into next week." Gabby assured her sister. "Come on." She said to John. She led the way out to a back garden, which was easily as extravagant as the front. John grimaced as he noticed another oozing pile of person soup on the ornamental path.

"This job is completely _fucked up_." He muttered.

"Shh." Gabby grabbed his arm to force him to a stop. He could now hear what she heard, which was a rustling, a scratching amongst Kat's prized garden. Gabby aimed and fired off a warning shot. "Get out of there now, you bastard." She ordered.

The rustling grew louder. "I'm getting real tired of this routine." John growled. Stepping forward, he began to club at the bushes with the butt of his shotgun.

That was when the creature wearing the face of Eddie Jenkins sprung out of the undergrowth and rushed at him, knocking him backwards. As Gabby grabbed his hands and pulled him back to his feet, the shapeshifter bolted away, back through the house.

Gabby took off after it, John not far behind her. The creature charged out the front door and down the steps-

And directly into the path of the sleek black car that was coming down the road. It bounced off the windshield and was still, its head hanging at an awkward angle. Gabby and John stopped at the front gate, moving their weapons out of the sight of the neighbours.

"Gotcha." Gabby whispered as the people on Kat's street began to gather around the accident. She could hear the whispers start.

_"Isn't that the guy on the news?"_

_"He's dead." _

_"He killed that police officer." _

_"But they've already jailed some other guy!" _

The driver and the passenger of the car got out, both with almost identical expressions of shock on their faces. One was a tall blonde woman who was very pretty in a dangerous sort of way, and the other was a man with slightly scruffy black hair and a bruise beginning to form around his eye.

There was a rustle behind John and Gabby, and the pair of them jumped.

"Only me." Kat said tiredly.

"Don't _do _that!" Gabby snapped.

"Do you think this will get your friend off?" John asked.

"I hope so." There was something funny about the way she said it, and the way she wasn't quite meeting his eyes. "I hope so."

* * *

A phone was ringing. It took Gabby a moment before she was awake enough to realise that it was John's.

"John." She whispered. "Pick up your phone."

He didn't stir. As soon as the excitement of the day had worn off, he had simply crashed and hadn't moved since. A dead weight.

Gabby sighed and reached over him to pick up the mobile from the bedside table. She flicked it open.

"Hello?"

For a moment there was stunned silence on the line. Then whoever it was began to speak haltingly. "Is this Gabrielle Rosalini?"

"Maybe." She yawned.

"Don't hang up, you have to listen to me. My name is Sam Winchester."


	6. A Stranger called Dean

John had been having almost continuous dreams since the night he had woken up with Gabby sitting at the end of the bed. Now was no different.

_He was a little boy asleep in bed when smoke, dancing flames, his mother screaming and his father shouting woke him with a start. He ran barefoot out of his little blue bedroom with the airplanes hanging from the ceiling down the hallway and into his brother's room._

_"Daddy!" _

_His father passed a small bundle into his arms. "Take your brother and get out as fast as you can. Now, Dean. Go!" _

And so he ran, clutching the precious bundle to his chest as his house burned around him. He was reaching for the doorknob with small, chubby hands when the dream changed.

_He was fifteen. His brother was eleven, and starting Junior High. The smaller boy stood by his brother's side, clutching his backpack like a lifeline. _

_"I don't want to go." He said plaintively. _

_"Sure, it's a bigger place than the last school you went to, but you'll be fine." He said comfortingly. "A little Young Einstein like you." _

_The younger boy gave a small smile. "Will you be at the flat when I get out?" _

_"You bet." _

He was walking back to the black car and a brooding figure slumped over the steering wheel when the dream shifted again.

_He'd just turned twenty-one. And instead of going out to celebrate, he and his old man were in Manhattan, where there was a troll that was preying on children. _

_It had gone wrong, and he'd ended up with his stomach gored. His father was sewing him up again, on a dingy hotel bed. His face was creased in a deep scowl and he was making no secret of how disappointed he was. _

_"The next time I tell you to do something, you do it. Am I clear?" _

_He balled his fists and blinked back tears. He would not show this man how much he hurt. How weak he was. What a disappointment he was. "Yes, sir." He spat through gritted teeth. _

He was there shaking on the bed until the dream shifted once more.

_He couldn't see them anymore. He couldn't feel the sun, or the wind. He was taken to a place which was nothing. But he could still hear the scream. _

_"DEAN!" _

John blinked awake, trying to dispel the jumble of emotions that played through his head. He glanced across the bed.

Gabby was sitting up, cross-legged, on her side of the bed. His phone was in her hand.

"What's going on?"

"We need to talk, John."

_That's never good to hear._

"What is it?"

"I've just been talking to Sam Winchester." She said. "He's been looking for his brother Dean. I think… John, I think you might be Dean."

The name meant nothing to him. Nothing at all.

"I also read this." Gabby handed him a manila folder with the emblem of Kat's law firm stamped on it. On autopilot, John reached out to flick on the lights. With a slight feeling of trepidation, he opened the file.

And his own picture jumped out at him, albeit a much younger, more carefree model.

"He's wanted. By the FBI." He said tonelessly as he read. "Grave desecration. Murder. Robbery. Armed assault."

"You remember I said that sometimes hunters get in trouble for saving people? You did, and if I'd taken you to the hospital that night you'd have been given the chair or death by lethal injection."

The way she spoke and the words he read only coupled to make him even angrier. "I'm. Not. This guy." He said quietly. "I can't be Dean."

"Can't or wont?" Gabby asked.

"How can you – You know me."

"I know John. Not Dean."

"Gabby…" His anger gave way to sadness. "But I'm not – I can't be – " He closed his eyes. "What did you tell this… this person?"

"That to me you were John no-last-name and no past. And he told me how Dean was a hero. He had given everything for his family. He protects his friends fiercely. And is always there to sacrifice himself for someone he hardly knew."

"Sounds like a nice guy." John said bitterly. "Too bad I don't know him." He flicked off the lights, lay back down and rolled over. _This conversation is finished._

Gabby stared at his back. _Who are you, John? What could possibly be so bad that your mind completely erases who you are?_

There was only one answer she could think of.

_He doesn't want to be Dean Winchester._

* * *

Kat was tired, and the multiple statements she had to give had her completely knackered, but she soldiered on anyway. That's all anyone could really do. Keep soldiering on one day after another. 

It was after lunch when there came a knock on the door before an officious-looking man strode in. He looked down his nose as her and Kat returned his glare soundly.

"I hear your client is getting off."

"You heard correctly, Agent Hendrickson." There were some federal agents that she never minded working with, and there were some who fell into the opposite group. And this guy fell neatly into the 'get-away-from-me-you-creepy-bastard' category.

He was posted out here as soon as Eddie Jenkins' case became public, just in case Ed was a cover for Dean Winchester to start killing again. The man was obsessed with catching both brothers, but the eldest in particular.

The gossip around the lunchroom was that this obsession is what got him demoted, lost his team and lost his wife.

And now there was hell to pay.

"So." Kat said. "It wasn't Dean Winchester." Which was true. Even if John _was _Dean, he had been with her sister for several days before that cop was murdered. Another part of her was churning. _Should I tell him?_

She looked up at his satisfied, self-assured smile. And she decided it would stay her secret for a while longer.

"Apparently not." Hendrickson said. "But Dean Winchester has pulled the double-stunt on us before."

"I _did _read the file, you know."

"I know. You actually became very curious about the Winchesters the other day."

"What-?"

"Don't you think we monitor all logins to the database? I saw how many times you accessed information about that twisted family. I saw what your particular search terms were." He placed his hands on her desk and leaned over her threateningly. "To withhold information from an investigation is a criminal offence, Ms Rosalini."

"And who do you think briefs her clients on that very fact before she takes their cases to court?" Kat too rose to her feet. "Agent Hendrickson, if you have no hard evidence to present to me, if you aren't going to arrest me now, please leave now before I call Security to show you out."

"No need." Hendrickson drew back and smoothed his jacket. "I know where the door is."

"Then if you would be so kind as to use it?"

Hendrickson narrowed his eyes. This girl was quick, but he could tell that she was hiding something. Or at least not telling the whole truth. He gave her a smile.

"Ms Rosalini."

"Get out." Kat finally snapped.

* * *

The next day, Gabby went about as if their conversation the previous night had never happened. And that was perfectly fine with John. 

Later they both walked up to the city lookout. It was a climb to get to the top, but once there it was worth it. John whistled. "Good thing I'm not afraid of heights. Or at least I can't remember whether I'm afraid of heights."

Gabby smiled. From her bag she pulled something wrapped in a length of cloth. She unwrapped it and pulled out a stick that was forked on one end.

"What's that?"

"A diviner's rod." She said. "It used to be used to find water and energy. Some say they're also drawn to ley lines, thought I wouldn't know for sure. I do know if you concentrate hard enough, it can point to other things."

Gabby held the rod by the forked end and stood with her arms out straight. As John watched, she closed her eyes and slowly moved the stick from side to side, eventually completing a full revolution.

John could hear her muttering place names under her breath. _Vegas, Los Angeles, New York, Iowa, Philadelphia… _It was like she had temporarily become a conduit for the rod's _divining_. He sat down and watched her curiously. It competed another revolution before it stopped, quivering. Gabby's eyes snapped open.

"It's still here." She said. "It's gone to the docks."

* * *

Agent Hendrickson stood on the observation deck among the haggard parents bringing excited children to peer out over the city. 

He had spent several hours outside Katherine Rosalini's place that morning, just waiting. Finally his silent vigil bore fruit when a tall man stepped onto the porch and stretched. He smiled when a woman came out behind him and touched his hand as she teased him lightly.

_What do we have here? _Victor had thought. He watched as Dean Winchester opened the garage door and the girl wheeled out a motorcycle. Dean secured a backpack to the bike before getting on behind the woman, his hands winding around her waist. She opened the throttle wide and the two were gone.

_Well. Clyde's gone and found himself a Bonnie. _Hendrickson pulled out of his park.

For a moment Victor thought he had lost them, then he spotted them joining the ranks of sightseers heading to the lookout. Dean was making no attempt to disguise the fact he was there, thought the woman did seem slightly anxious. _You arrogant bastard._ Victor thought disbelievingly.

Hendrickson scowled. He fingered the knobs on his radio. He should really call this in. He should. But this was his case. And it was more than a little personal.

_You ruined my life._

And so he waited for Dean and the woman to come back down from the very top of the lookout. Little did he know, he wasn't the only one watching something.

A blonde woman walked across the deck, her hair flying in the wind. Victor first noticed the walk she had, a sort of strut. She swaggered. She was good looking, and she knew it too. His gaze slowly broke away from the track as he watched her pass. _For God's sake! She could be your daughter!_

Even so, he couldn't help but watch as she bent over to retie her shoelace. She straightened and took off her jacket, tying it around her waist. He swallowed as he saw how low-cut her shirt was. She sat down on the bench and slumped over as she worked the tangles out of her long hair.

Suddenly there was a roar of an engine and Victor's head snapped around. He caught sight of the back end of a motorbike disappearing out of the entrance. He snarled and shot to his feet.

The blonde, too, was gone.

Hendrickson's hands clenched into fists. The blonde must have been working for him, which meant Dean knew that someone was on his tail.

He should have known that all the greatest criminals came in packs.

Composing himself, he went back to his car with as much dignity as he could muster. If Winchester had others working for him, then there was bound to be someone else, watching. _See me? I don't care that he got away this time. I'll just pick up the trail again._

Little did Victor Hendrickson know that if he had turned around at that precise moment, he would have seen the woman who had temporarily blinded him with her feminine assets slip into the door of the awaiting getaway vehicle.

"I am a disgrace to the feminist movement." Jo said, pulling her jacket back on and zipping it up to the top. "Germain Greer is going to kick my ass all the way back to Australia." She glared accusingly at her companion. "You know what you just did? You visually pimped me out to some guy. I feel all sullied now."

"It was for the greater good." Sam said, working on stopping his face from breaking into a stupid grin. Jo would have been able to distract any male, unless they happened to be gay. Even he didn't mind her act. But there was no way he was going to tell her that unless she took it completely the wrong way.

"Hey, you pervert." She pinched his arm. "Are you going to sit there fantasising about me or what? Heck, you could rule the world with the right sets of T&A."

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably as Jo sat back and crossed her arms across her chest. He pulled out. "We couldn't risk Dean being caught." He said. "You understand that, don't you?"

"Yeah." Jo sighed. "I guess. I just don't know why I'm always the bait, always the distraction."

"Because you're so _good at it_."

"Oh, drop dead."

* * *

"I hope you don't get seasick." 

John shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Of course." Gabby rolled her eyes.

"What?" John suddenly felt defensive.

"John, this _Bourne Identity _act is starting to get old very quickly." She sighed. "You talked in your sleep last night."

"What did I say?" His mouth suddenly went dry.

"Something about a woman. Burning on the ceiling. And you called for someone called 'Cassie'."

_Cassie. The first time he had let himself reach out to someone in a long while. He didn't even know what happened to her after he left her, that time when…_ He shook his head and the images were scattered. "No." He said.

"No, you don't remember, or no, you don't _want _to remember?" Gabby asked him, her eyes determinedly scanning the dock. "We are who we are, and we can't just erase that knowledge because we don't like it. We need the mistakes, and the heartache. They help make us who we are. And they make us stronger."

John was silent. He felt like Dean was there, just beyond his reach, waiting to retake control.

_Dean, who drank and swore and slept around, just wanting to be normal, just wanting to be held. Alone, so alone. Always alone. And John, who had found friendship, a new lease on life, and maybe even love._

"I can't become him." John said quietly. "You don't understand."

_We're not the same person anymore._


	7. He's Back

The water leapt against the pylons of the wharf. Whatever boats were still moored here were being repeatedly bumped against the wood.

"Alright." Gabby stopped in front of the dockmaster's office. "You go that way and I'll go this way. If you see anything, give the signal."

"What signal?"

"How about 'argh, monster'?"

John smiled. Gabby grinned back as she walked away, her light weaving slightly as she walked. John stood still for a moment and watched her go. He had the vague feeling that he had been watching people leave him for a long time.

_And he wondered when she was going to go too. _

However it seemed he had stood idle for too long.

Gabby's head snapped around when she heard him shout. Someone grabbed his collar and pulled him back through the door to the dockmaster's office. She saw three monogrammed letters on a Kevlar vest.

_FBI. _

There was a noise to the other side of her and she flicked back to look the other way. There was a person standing on the end of the wharf. As she watched, its eyes glowed and it smiled at her.

"No." She breathed.

* * *

There was blood in his mouth. This person had cracked him sharply across the face with the butt of his automatic pistol, causing him to thump painfully against the dockmaster's desk. 

He spat out a mouthful so he could breathe properly.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

John stared up at the man dazedly. His eyes were wild as he stared down at his prey triumphantly. "Don't you remember me, Dean? It's Agent Hendrickson. Agent Victor Hendrickson."

"You're a madman." John wheezed.

"Oh, I'm the madman. _I'm the madman?_ As soon as I caught wind of this case, I knew you were back. And I said to myself that this time, this time I'm just gonna kill him."

John shrunk away. "I could beat you to a pulp." He growled, sounding more confident than he actually felt.

"I have no doubt." Hendrickson said. "But I've called this in. Within five minutes I'll have agents crawling up every orifice you've got. But I thought. _The first shot should be mine_."

He brought the gun crashing down again

* * *

Gabby was torn. The demon was right there, standing on the edge of the wharf, smiling. He might as well have been beckoning to her. 

But John… The fed had him, and she could hear the faint sounds of something hard hitting flesh._ Which one's more important, Gab? _

"ARGH!" She spat out her frustration before turning and sprinting back down the way she had come. She drew her leg up and sent it crashing into the door. The thin pine crumbled and swung inwards upon impact.

The FBI agent gave her a look of surprise mere seconds before Gabby sent her fist flying into his jaw. It gave a satisfying crunch as the man crumbled to the floor, unconscious.

"Sweet dreams, fucker." She snarled.

John's face was red. Gripping the desk, he hauled himself into a sitting position and wiped blood from under his nose.

"Are you alright?" As she asked, Gabby swiftly disarmed the fed, nudging him to be sure he was definitely out. At John's poisonous look, she realised that it probably wasn't the best thing to ask under the circumstances.

"He said there were others coming."

"Then we'd better get out of here, don't you think?"

"But the demon-"

"There are other things that are more important." Gabby said quietly. "Come on." He stood and promptly almost fell over. She slung his arm over her shoulder. "That many knocks to your head, knocks out your balance." She grunted. "No way we're gonna get you on the bike."

There were lights flashing in the street as they stumbled out of the office. "Oh, _balls_." Gabby hissed.

"Over there." John pointed.

They crept further into the shadows. "John, do you know how much I'd like to give Dean a good kick up the backside right now?" Gabby hissed. "Why the _hell _would you ever be stupid enough to let yourself get caught?"

"I don't-"

John frowned as she clenched her hands in her lap.

Both of them heard car doors slam and shouting voices. "Oh, Mr Winchester? Why not come out and play?" Said a female voice.

Gabby met John's eyes. And for the first time he really saw someone maybe as screwed up as Dean Winchester. _Duty, responsibility, loneliness, resentment. _"We need Dean."

"Gabby-"

"_Have you ever stopped to think what will happen to you if they get you_?" She hissed. "I don't like it either, but you _have to_."

_That's an order, Dean._

* * *

Jo and Sam watched from the safely of a near building. "What do we do now?" Jo hissed. "What the hell do we do?" 

"I _don't know_." Sam scowled back. He counted eight squad cars, though there were doubtless more on the way. And each agent was armed with semi-automatic weapons. Suddenly, there was a slight scuffle and a man stumbled into the light, his face covered with blood.

"Hiya, folks." He said.

Weapons were cocked as one. "Hands in the air where we can see 'em." One of the agents spat.

Smiling bemusedly, he raised his hands. _Oh, God, no. _

"So, you're still going to arrest me? Throw me to the wolves? And where's my buddy Victor these days?" The bemused smile turned into a belligerent grin. "Going to shoot me?"

"Stand down, Winchester." A woman ordered.

"Only for you, sweetheart." He raised his eyebrows.

"Throw down your weapons."

He reached into his jacket, pulling a sawn off shotgun from the back of his jeans. He threw on the ground two handguns that had been tucked safely into their shoulder holsters and removed three throwing knives from his boots.

"Now, Winchester-"

Dean held up a finger to silence them. As the feds watched, he shook his sleeves and two fine sabres fell out. "Now I'm done."

"What do you think you're playing at?" A man asked, confused.

"Me? Why would I be playing anything?" Grinning, he sank into a deep, flourishing bow, before spinning and diving off the edge of the wharf.

That was when the first car blew up, catching the others in the event horizon of its explosion and sending them all up into massive fireballs.

* * *

Dean and Gabby spent ten minutes after the fed's convoy had blown up sheltering under the pier in the water so as not to be hit by flying embers. 

"You do this a lot?" Gabby asked.

"When I can get away with it." Dean answered.

She spat out a mouthful of water. "Is… Is John still in there?"

"Yeah." Dean said quietly. "He's here." _John, his nice alter ego that everyone seemed to like. _

_Sam is never going to let me live this one down._ He let go of the wood and promptly began to sink. "Time to go."

"No arguments from me."

And so they drifted down the canal, snagging on odd bits of submerged muck, until Dean finally got a hold on the bank and hauled himself up. Reaching out for Gabby's hands, he helped to pull her from the black water.

Wet and shaking, the made their way back to Kat's house.

There was a squad car parked outside. "Crap." Gabby breathed, taking Dean's hand and pulling him back into the shadows. Kat walked out the front door, talking to a FBI agent. She was nodding and shaking her head in turns.

"You think she'll get in trouble?" Dean surprised himself by actually feeling concerned for the lawyer's welfare.

"Nah. All she has to say is the truth. Neither of us actually told her who you really were." Gabby said. "Kat's done this sort of thing before."

They walked back down the street, bedraggled and damp. This time Dean did pull the collar of his jacket up to conceal part of his face. "Tell her I'm sorry." And this time there was no doubt about it. He was feeling guilty.

He stopped and took Gabby's arm to stop her too. "I'm sorry." He said again. The words seemed less harsh the second time around. "I never meant-"

"To almost get me killed?" She sounded distant and unconcerned now. And the way she looked at him made him feel strange. _She had been friends with John, and now he was gone. Replaced by a stranger. _

"You were the one that blew up the car." He said defensively, and felt like kicking himself as soon as the words were past his lips.

This time she did smile. "I suppose I did." She said. Stepping forward, she gave him a swift kiss. "Do something for me."

"Anything." He said earnestly.

"Let John out occasionally. Be that normal kid that only wanted to help people. Be the one that can still see good in the world. You'll be surprised how far it can get you. Just do that for me."

"I will."

She gave a small, sad smile and looked down at the puddles forming around their feet.

"Sorry about your bike."

"I rebuilt it before, I can do it again."

"I'm sorry about the demon."

"I'll find it again." She said. "Even if it takes another five years."

"I wish I could help."

"I hunt alone." Gabby said sharply, cutting him off. She looked around, adjusting the wet backpack across her shoulders. "I don't even know what part of town we're in now."

Dean shrugged. "No idea."

They both turned as they heard the screech of a black car pulling up alongside them. The driver's window rolled down. Music was blaring from the cab. "Maybe we can help."

_Untidy black hair, thin face, wide grin…_

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean asked.

"You remember him, then?" A blonde woman lent over to see out Sam's window. Dean blinked.

"What are you doing back here?"

"Sam needed a security blanket." Jo said. "And someone to distract the guards. You guys need to be dropped somewhere?"

"Just don't hit me again." Sam said.


	8. Not the End

Gabby spotted lights flashing over the hill and pushed Dean in the back. "Get in." The two of them slipped into the leather interior.

"Need anything? Good. Because we're not stopping." Sam flung the Impala into a wide U turn, pressing the accelerator to the floor. He and Jo had been talking animatedly only moments before, now the car was plunged into silence.

The flashed past the 'welcome' sign.

"So." Sam finally broke the silence. "I was thinking, if you guys want to ride together-"

"Shh." Jo said. Sam glanced at her and she nodded her head in the direction of the backseat. He glanced into the rear-view mirror.

Dean's head was lolling to the side, exhaustion having finally taken over. Gabrielle Rosalini's eyes were also closed, leaning against his shoulder. His arm was absently curled around her.

Sam glanced back to the road ahead of them. He felt… he didn't know how he felt. Well, Dean deserved to have a good time once in a while, surely?

It was like the Hunter's version on a business conference. Gabriel and Deacon were outside, being briefed by Ellen on something. Bobby was pouring himself a drink; Jo was perched precariously on top of a stack of books, and Sam was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

Gabby was even there, a scowl on her face and her feet up on another pile of books.

Singers' Salvage Yard was full for the first time in several months, the scrapyard park filled with vehicles.

The door opened and Dean came out, running a hand through his hair. He stopped mid-yawn. "Oh. You were waiting for me. How nice."

"Sit down, boy." Bobby instructed.

"Say what?"

"Do what he says, John - Dean." Gabby said, still avoiding his eyes.

"What is this?"

"We got trouble, Dean." Jo said gravely.

That got his attention. "What kind?"

"Not demonic." Sam said.

"I don't get it."

"Thanks to your vanishing act, you pissed someone off good and proper. Several someones." Bobby said.

"Still not getting it."

"Don't you even watch the news? And the think I was so impressed with you." Jo folded her arms. "The FBI are cracking down."

"On what?"

"On us." Bobby said. "Every grave robbery, desecration, vandalism. Every suspicious death. They're gonna pull them all apart. Sooner or later they'll be lead right back to us, and it might as well start another witch hunt."

Dean was quiet. "Did I-?"

"It was coming for a long time. Not your fault."

And as everyone broke into conversation, Dean spotted Gabby slink quietly from the room. Careful not to disturb anyone, he followed her outside.

"What are you going to do?" He asked.

She stopped mid-step. "I suppose." She thought for a moment. "I suppose I'll go home for a while."

"Home." Dean echoed emptily.

"If I still have one."

"You're lucky."

"Only bad luck."

"If we didn't have bad luck, we wouldn't have any at all." He said.

"Maybe." Gabby replied.

"Why don't you stay here with us?"

"Us?"

"Alright. Me."

"I only hunt alone." She said again. "Tell Bobby thanks for the car."

"Gab-"

Putting her backpack onto the front seat of the car, she withdrew something from it. Dean recognised it as the diviner's rod. She turned back to him, holding it out toward him.

"Here."

"I can't-"

"Sure you can. But when you use it, you really have to concentrate on what you want, or it wont work." She held his hand a moment longer before slipping into the car and starting the engine.

Dean waved after her as she left Bobby's in a cloud of dust. He looked down at the rod in his hand, smooth and strong and somehow bristling with power. And he wondered for a minute whether it would point to her.

There were footsteps behind him.

"You really fell for her, huh?" Sam asked. "Another hunter."

"Get lost." Dean said.

"You did. You fell for her. Man, who has a complex now?"

"Shut up." He stopped. "You know, I never really noticed how screwed up I was until I was on the outside looking in."

"Yeah." Sam said. There was a moment of silence between the brothers. Then Sam cleared his throat. "So. Did you and her-?"

"Jesus, Sam. Have you always had the mentality of a twelve-year-old, or is it a recent development?"

"And have you always spoken like a fifty-year-old, or was I too busy to notice?" Sam grinned. Then he seemingly became serious. "Seriously, though. She's a hunter. What couple time could you have had? A quick grope in a dark corner?"

"Bite. My. Ass. Bitch."

"Jerk."

There was a woman waiting for him when he opened the door to his office.

"I wasn't aware that I told my secretary to let anyone in." He said.

"I saved her the trouble." She stood, and he noticed the army greens. "What are you doing here, captain?" He asked cautiously.

"I'm on leave." She said. "A mutual friend directed me here. A very mutual friend."

"What do you want?"

"Agent Hendrickson, what you are doing here is illegal."

He froze. "What?"

"Seven years." She said. "If a felon has been inactive for that long, you are not officially allowed to conduct any further searches."

He crossed the room and sat at his desk. "What do you want?"

"I want in on this covert operation." She smiled smugly. "I want Sam Winchester. Alive is preferable but not necessary."

"And what makes you think you have anything to contribute to my team?" _Forgetting for the moment that his team consisted of several of the most unbalanced but brilliant minds of the FBI, a man who called himself a hunter and his crew of miscreants. _

"Apart from the obvious." She smoothed the front of her uniform. "You will _never _have any idea of how fully-trained the Winchesters are."

"And you do."

"Probably better than you do, agent."

"Why?"

"Not wanting to sound cliché, but it's personal."

Agent Hendrickson looked at her from the safety of his office chair. _An army commando with an axe to grind…_"Meet me tomorrow and we'll discuss it." He said. "Do you have a name or shall I make one up?"

"Captain Wandell." She said. "Sally Wandell."

Time passed, and the boys did their best to lie low. From squatting at Bobby's they moved on to Ellen's, where Jo introduced them to the marvel that was the Hunter's Blog. Which in hindsight turned out not to have been a very good idea as Dean had swiftly gotten into an online argument aboutweapons and snapped at them each time they were about to physically move him from the computer.

From Ellen's, they moved on to a mechanics owned by one of Ellen and Jo's friends called Miles. They stayed with Miles until there came news of assorted Hellspawn shacking up in California. There, they had another close brush with the feds, but thankfully at the same time, an old friend of their father's was working a case nearby, stepped in and deflected attention off the scent.

Finally they ended up in a place that was supposed to be an Inn, but had more of a biker bar feel to it. The tall blonde man that Dean surmised was the owner had the bearing of an old roadie and peered out over their heads like a lord surveying his domain.

He had nodded his head briefly to Sam and Sam had given a quick grin back.

"God, do you know everyone now?"

Luthor had rooms out back, which he kept for hunters with domestic problems. The brothers camped out there for several weeks until one day, very early in the morning, Dean's phone rang.

He didn't recognise the number, so he was cautious upon answering.

"Hello?"

"Sea or air?"

Dean sat up. "Who are you and how did you get this number?"

"Take a wild stab in the dark." The dark, dry humour was achingly familiar. "Sea or air?"

"Ah, sea."

"Ah, a flying phobe, huh?" Dean ignored that.

"What do you want?"

"My name is Raphael Rosalini."

"You're-"

"Gabrielle's father." He said. "How would you and your brother like to take your business internationally? There is a problem that could use your expertise."

For one of the first times in his life, Dean was lost for words. "As in-?" _The father that had trained Gabby to hunt. She respected him as an equal, not as her dad. _"You mean-?"

"Out of the country. Getting out of America might be preferable at the moment for you boys." Raphael paused for effect. "Scotland, to be precise."

"_Scotland_?" Dean was embarrassed at how shrill his voice became. Sam threw a pillow at him, mouthing _what?_ "How the hell can you-?"

"Never mind. I can sort it all out." _I bet you can. _"What do you say?"

"You want us to got to _Scotland_?!"

'_Never made it as a wise man_

_I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing _

_Tired of living like a blind man _

_I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling _

_And this is how you remind me _

_This is how you remind me _

_Of what I really am.'_

**Author's Note & Disclaimer:**

The lyrics to 'How you Remind Me' belongs to Nickelback and anyone associated with the band.

I don't own anything Supernatural, including Sam, Dean and Jo.

I do, however, own the Rosalinis - Gabby, her sister Kat, and their dad Raphael. _(Does John count as an original character? I'm curious.)_

Thanks to all that read, reviewed, faved and added this and my other stories to their alert lists.

Thank you all.


End file.
